Something Wicked
by TessII
Summary: Ten years after the events of the movie. Lydia manages to bite off more than she can chew when she agrees to try and soothe an angry spirit.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

 **I have no idea why this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and if I should continue it.**

* * *

Three days after her almost wedding Lydia Deetz found herself side tracked by something shiny and stooped to investigate. Imagine her surprise when she held in her hand the very ring that Betelgeuse had failed to slip onto her finger. It had been glimmering innocently in a crack near the hearth of the fireplace and of course she could not help but pluck it up to examine it more closely. On a whim she slipped it onto her right ring finger and immediately decided she was going to keep it.

She told herself it was a reminder of what she had experienced, and no matter how much her parents tried to ignore or play the incident down she would always have her memory. And now she would always have the ring.

If she was honest with herself she really could not put a single reason on why she kept the ring. Yes, it was a reminder of the incident, but she could not help but feel the thrill of excitement knowing that her parents would completely disapprove of her wearing of the jewelry. If she dug a little deeper, maybe she kept it because she felt just a little bit flattered that she had been proposed to, even if it had not been romantic, beautiful or remotely welcome.

Delia and her father did a good job of ignoring the sudden appearance of jewelry on Lydia's finger, and if Barbara and Adam noticed her little act of rebellion they kept it to themselves. It wasn't as if anyone could do anything about it anyway. Lydia found out why the ring had been attached to a severed finger when Betelgeuse had first fished it out of his pockets.

It would not come off.

The fact honestly hardly bothered the girl since she hadn't been planning on taking it off anyway. It was darkly tasteful with it's night-black stone (a stone she still could not identify) and silver band. It felt somehow right on her hand. If it also somehow became somewhat nostalgic as she grew up, well, all the better.

* * *

 ** _1998_ **

* * *

Music thrummed through the floor and the walls and reverberated through her chest as Lydia flopped back into the plush comforter of her bed, breathless with laughter. Rob Zombie's "Dragula" filled the room, and herself, with energy. She lived in Hartford Connecticut in a two-bedroom duplex and made a living doing what she loved. She could not be higher on life.

The music was suddenly cut off and she turned to face her friend, Prudence, only to wince at the exasperated look on her face.

"We don't need your neighbors complaining any more." The red-head huffed, "maybe you don't want to keep your place, but Bertha and I enjoy staying over."

"Call me Beth, Prude." The tall brunette cut in and the pair exchanged annoyed looks. The pair fought like cats and dogs ever since Bertha got a boyfriend, but the love was still there.

Lydia huffed a silent chuckle and rolled onto her other side to capture the black ball of fuzz that had been dozing on her pillow. The cat, Percy, was used to such behavior from his owner and settled into her lap with the kind of tolerant glare only felines could pull off. His mistress ran her fingers through his fur, undaunted.

"How's it going with the new boy-toy?" Lydia waggled her eyebrows at 'Beth', who blushed beet red. She was sure her recent name change had everything to do with Thomas, the young man Bertha had recently started seeing. She supposed Bertha just didn't roll off the tongue when one was in the throws of passion.

"We're going out again Friday." Bertha sighed as she held one of Lydia's pillows to her chest. "He's going to take me to the drive-in theater."

"Better get some new underwear for the occasion." Lydia teased and fought a smirk at the dark blush that spread down her friend's neck.

"Why bother? It'll be too dark for him to appreciate it." Prudence pitched in from where she lounged at the foot of the bed. "On that note, why bother wearing any at all?" The room erupted into giggles while pillows and popcorn flew through the air. Percy heaved a long-suffering sigh and jumped out of his owner's lap to pad silently into the bathroom where he would not be disturbed by their antics.

"It's been too long since we've been able to hang out." Bertha said as she lazed back in the bean-bag chair. "Ever since we graduated we've been seeing less and less of each other." It was an undeniable truth, unless the trio put time aside it was impossible to find a day all three of them had free. Prudence had gone on to NYU, but Lydia had been content to do a few rounds of community college while she worked on promoting her own photography business, much to her parents chagrin. Bertha stayed behind in Winter River to help her own family with their farm.

Lydia grunted an agreement as she slid down the side of her bed and dragged her comforter down to the floor with her she stifled a laugh as the action dislodged Prudence and she thumped beside her with an undignified squawk. "Speaking of hanging out, didn't you say you had a favor to ask, _Beth_?" Just because she agreed to use the new name did not mean she would pass up the opportunity to poke fun at her any chance she got.

Unfortunately, said friend did not rise to the bait, and instead the brunette became withdrawn as she cast a hesitant glance at Prudence, the jovial mood of the room dissipated instantly as Bertha rubbed her arm. Lydia sat up straighter and fiddled with her ring as the atmosphere suddenly turned tense.

"Remember when I was asking about Ouiji boards?" Bertha ventured in a subdued voice. Of course Lydia remembered, she remembered telling her not to, under any circumstances, touch the damn things. Still, she held her tongue and nodded for her friend to continue.

"My aunt Melanie tried to use one to contact my cousin Luke. The one that died a year ago." Bertha interrupted herself when she saw that Lydia was already about to protest. "I know it was stupid but she was desperate, and I know you don't like people knowing that you can see ghosts, and I swear you won't even have to see my family, they won't know it's you, its just, I don't know if It _is_ Luke or not but whatever came through is getting aggressive. It's slamming doors and breaking things and last weekend it tried to strangle auntie."

Strained silence stretched between the three friends as the other two tried to wade through the word vomit that had erupted from the tall brunette.

"And you want me to...what? Talk to the spirit?" Lydia had helped smooth over relations between haunting ghosts and their living roommates twice before, not including her own parents and the Maitlands, but neither experience had entailed aggressive entities like Bertha was describing. She was unsure what talking with them would accomplish, if anything at all.

"They don't know what else to do...they tried a self-proclaimed psychic and a Native American Shaman and both took their money but couldn't get rid of the-uh-presence." Bertha trained her pleading eyes on Lydia, "They even tried smudging the house with sage on their own but it only made things worse. Maybe if they could find out what the spirit wanted they could send it back through the board or something?"

Lydia bit her lip and continued to twist her ring as she avoided Bertha's puppy-dog eyes. She had a feeling that whatever was going on with 'aunt Melanie' was way out of her depth, but at the same time she hated to leave the family high and dry without even trying to help. Prudence crossed her arms under her breasts as she glanced between her two friends uncomfortably.

"Okay. It can't hurt to just check it out, right?" Lydia assented at last as she raised her eyes to meet Bertha's gaze. "You'll be there, too, right?" The brunette nodded as a grin broke across her face and Lydia's dark eyes sought Prudence who hesitated before shaking her head in the negative.

"Sorry. I'm just-I'm not comfortable with these sort of things." Prudence's eyes were locked on her feet. The red-head had been less open to the occult in any way shape or form since she had started at NYU.

"Hey, no prob." Lydia offered a bright smile, "Beth and I got this covered."

* * *

Bertha called Lydia later that night to inform her that her aunt was more than eager to have her 'commune' with the spirit, especially after she found out that there would be no charge for the service. Melanie agreed to leave the house empty that very Saturday so that she and Bertha may commence with the 'cleansing.'

"You did tell them this wasn't a sure thing?" Lydia said dubiously as she pulled her sleek black '91 Toyota Celica up to the curb in front of the two-story house. The neighborhood seemed like a peaceful upper-middle class suburbia, and with the sun shining and the birds chirping innocently it was hard to believe anything nefarious could be occurring within the domicile.

"Uh...I've got faith in you?" Bertha grinned at the half-exasperated half-amused look her friend shot her. Bertha's keys jingled as they approached the front of the house and Lyda clenched her fists and took a bold step forward as the door creaked open. She wasn't afraid of ghosts.

She hesitated a few steps in as her stomach plummeted to her feet and every hair on her body stood on end.

Heaviness pervaded the air. The thickness weighed heavily against both body and mind. It permeated the dimly lit room to make the atmosphere just that much darker. Lydia felt as if she was trying to breathe gelatin while she adjusted to the pressure the entity was exerting. So intense was the miasma of negativity that she was forced to grab onto the back of the sofa as a wave of vertigo rushed through her. Whatever dwelt within the house was powerful, and decidedly unfriendly.

Lydia gulped and wondered, not for the first time, if maybe she had bitten of a little more than she could chew by volunteering for this.

Then she remembered what Bertha had told her about her aunt's experiences, and how the spirit had escalated to attacking the woman. Lydia tried to hold onto the sympathy that the thought inspired and use it to bolster her courage, she tried to pep-talk herself with defiant thoughts of having nothing to fear from ghosts.

"Can you see anyone?" Bertha hovered in the open doorway, her voice a soft murmur as if she, too, could sense something foreboding in the house and dared not disturb it. Lydia shook her head and her friend continued, "I mean...someone _is_ here, right?"

Lydia didn't trust herself to speak. She pursed her lips and took a reluctant step forward. The energy in the house was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that fact. Bertha, emboldened by Lydia's advance, hesitant as it was, followed suit until they stood abreast in the middle of the living room. The only light was the dim sunlight streaming through sheer curtains.

"Auntie was telling me that he's started talking to her. Luke, I mean. She swears it's his voice, and sounds like he's right there in her ear." Bertha's oral flatulence was a chronic condition, only made worse by her nervousness. "She says she can hear him crying and begging for help."

Lydia listened to her friend ramble with half an ear only for the pair to jump at a sudden sound from directly above them. Something heavy had scraped across the floor on the second story. They exchanged a look as the weighty silence once again reigned.

The ebony haired young woman closed her eyes to steel herself once again. She did not make it a habit to contact strange spirits, and she'd only interacted with the handful she had in the past to help them exist peacefully with the living and avoid exorcism. Only one ghost from her past rivaled the danger rolling through this one's aura, and she had escaped the situation unscathed, if almost married.

She was more experienced now. She could sense a particular spirit and feel out the dead's general mood through the energy they put out, indeed even as an inexperienced youth she had been able to differentiate between Betelgeuse's aura and the Maitlands, identifying him as the "snake" during their first official encounter.

This energy, the malicious heaviness that wound it's way through the entire house, was and was not like Betelgeuse's aura. It was similar in that it felt feral, wild, _dangerous,_ but it was lacking something distinct. She wanted to say that it did not feel human. It was not as intense as the poltergeist's power had been, but it was more angry and felt just as unstable.

Her fingers trailed the railing as she stepped up the stairs with leaden feet and a dancing stomach. The hallway was darker than the living room had been, and much, much colder. She could only just make out three pale outlines of doors. The one at the end of the hall unlatched and creaked open an inch, almost as if daring her to continue.

She had only took a single step when a low growl rumbled from the darkness beyond the door. The sound was distinctly animalistic and shot chills down her spine. Bertha was a few steps behind her now, still following diligently despite her shaking. The brunette made no move at the sound, only watched her black-haired friend for signs of danger, and Lydia concluded that she had not heard the warning.

Lydia wanted to turn back. She wanted to get the hell out of this damn house, but she hadn't let Betelgeuse intimidate her when she was twelve and she'd be damned if she would let whatever this was get to her.

"Stay here." Lydia's voice was a cracked whisper as she left her friend at the top of the stairs and forced herself forward. Her heart quickened in her breast as she reached for the ajar portal and paused for a breath before rapping her knuckles timidly on the door frame.

"Hello?" She called gently. "My name is Lydia, I'm here to help." She kept her voice as mellow and friendly as she could. She had found that the polite approach usually yielded the best results. "I'm going to come in, I just want to talk." She took a fortifying breath through the thick miasma that seemed to spill out of the door, though the air was still heavy the entity seemed no more displeased than it had upon her initial entering of the house.

She received no response as she took a slow step into the pitch-black room.

Her heart was a steady beat in her throat and her mouth was bone-dry as she felt blindly along the wall for a light switch. She did not spare a thought as to why there was no sunlight trickling through covered windows, her only focus was how very, very cold the room was.

She could feel the entity move closer to her and she swallowed thickly as she tried to reassure herself that it was probably just curious. Lydia closed her eyes as the specter's fetid breath puffed over her skin and jostled her hair. It filled her nose with the smell of three day old roadkill fermented in the summer sun.

 _You faced the leading bio-excorsist and came out unscathed, you got this._ The mantra sounded hollow to her but she kept it repeating in her head to steady her racing pulse.

"I'm going to turn on the light." She announced, proud that her voice did not quaver. She flicked the switch and felt her blood run cold as a scream lodged in her too-dry throat and came out a strangled sort of gasp.

The creature's empty sockets were only a few inches from her face as they stared out from the skull of a sharp-toothed canine. Two obsidian ram-like horns curved at either side of it's head and it's body was black and leathery with periodic tufts of course ebony fur and prickly quills on it's shoulders. Two nearly skeletal wings-tattered to all hell- erupted from a lumpy and equally emaciated body. It hunched low to stare directly into her eyes, its legs bending like that of an upright dog, and it's feet also distinctly canine. It had three clawed toes and three fingered talons that flexed hungrily where they hung between it's feet. A long leathery tail slithered lazily on the floor behind it.

The only sound in the room was it's too-loud rattling breath.

Lydia blinked as she took the thing in, unsure whether she was amazed at the impossible creature or terrified. Between it's legs and slightly in front of it was a superimposed image of a little brown-haired boy, an image that gave off no energy of it's own. Luke had never come through the ouijia board. This creature had been summoned from whatever blackness lay beyond the _thing_ had been impersonating Luke, and had been using his voice and likeness to torment Bertha's aunt. It seemed to know that the illusion had failed and allowed the image of the rosy-cheeked boy to fade as it's face came impossibly closer, and Lydia's lungs failed her.

"What is it?" Bertha's worried voice sounded far away. "What do you see?"

The young woman's trembling hand lifted almost of it's own accord as she struggled with herself. This thing was dangerous, but it had a terrible beauty about it and she could not help but feel drawn-pulled towards it. Her fingers were nearly touching the coyote-like skull when sanity returned to her and she snatched her hand away and threw herself back against the wall with a solid thump.

"Not a little boy." Lydia's voice was barely a whisper as she belatedly answered her friend's question there was no way anyone else could hear her. The bone around the creature's razor sharp teeth shifted impossibly into a sneer as it reached out with one of its horrible- _magnificent_ -terrifying talons.

Whatever had held her spellbound broke suddenly as adrenaline shot through her and she was flying out of the room and slamming the door behind her hard enough to knock the pictures off the walls. She grabbed Bertha roughly by the wrist as she ran past and stumbled hastily down the stairs. She did not stop even when she was safe in her car and halfway down the block, the tires of her Celica screeching around the turns as Bertha struggled with her seat belt.

She didn't know what the fuck that thing was, but she knew she did not want to see it again. Ever.

"So...it's not Luke?" Bertha ventured as Lydia's car squealed around yet another corner.

"Not even close."

* * *

Bertha was unable to pull an explanation out of Lydia no matter how hard she pressed for one. No matter what angle she tried her childhood friend remained infuriatingly silent. Strangely the activity in her aunt's house had suddenly stopped after their visit, though she could not see why. Her friend had hardly spoken at all, and not in any conversational way. They had barely been there thirty minutes.

Eventually Bertha stopped asking about it. The subject seemed to upset Lydia, and if she was honest with herself she did not really want to know what had been haunting her aunt's house, because she knew if it could scare _Lydia_ it must be a whole new dimension of horrible.

* * *

The incident, as most horrifying things usually did, started out small. Things that honestly didn't even register after sharing her childhood home with two resident ghosts. A door would creak while she was working on a clients portfolio, or small objects would disappear and turn up in unexpected places. As the weeks went by, though, she could feel the energy begin to manifest, weak, but undoubtedly the same oppressive presence that had chased her from Melanie's.

One of it's favorite past times seemed to be startling her awake in the middle of the night by slamming her bedroom door hard enough to rattle the entire house. After a full week of this she resigned herself to only getting four hours of rest a night and compensating with lots and lots of eye makeup on days she had appointments.

Percy had stopped eating as soon as the activity had begun. He would hiss at shadows in the corners of a room and often struck out at Lydia when she tried to soothe him. The cat was loosing a dangerous amount of weight and so, though it broke her heart, she called Bertha to see if she had space for him on her family's farm.

Bertha told her about the abrupt cessation to the activity after their visit, and Lydia could only assume that the creature had somehow managed to latch onto her and was now slowly gaining strength in it's new environment. She did not divulge _why_ her aunt was now unmolested to her friend.

Lydia did her best to ignore any occurrences. If she paid it's antics attention it seemed to encourage it's behavior, and when it managed to startle her it's energy hummed with pleasure. Her only saving grace was the fact that it seemed to be too weak from it's transfer to manifest physically.

So she put up with being late to meetings with clients because of her missing car keys, and she tolerated her lighter and her incense somehow ending up on top of her wardrobe, never mind that she was much too short to put them up there herself. Lydia refused to even move the items from where they balanced precariously over the edge. She brushed off lights flickering and doors slamming and threw herself into her work as her peaceful little duplex was slowly transformed into hell on earth. It would get bored and leave if it didn't get what it wanted, right?

One month after the start of the occurrences, it spoke.

She sat upon her bed organizing a portfolio of wedding photos for a client when the air took on a decided chill and the familiar fetid breath wheezed across her ear and right side of her face.

"Lyyyyydiiiiiiaaaaaaa." The voice was simultaneously bone-startlingly deep and barely a whispered hiss. Her body seemed to freeze as every hair stood at attention. With a force of will she did not know she possessed Lydia calmly packed her client's portfolio and headed out for an impromptu night on the town.

Her home had been torn apart when she returned the next morning, but she cleaned it up without a word. She would not acknowledge it. She wouldn't.

* * *

Lydia relaxed into the scalding hot water cascading around her body with a soft sigh. The house had been quiet the last week, almost suspiciously so, and she was determined to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Maybe the creature was finally getting bored and would move on to it's next victim.

She did not let herself feel guilty for that thought.

The steaming water suddenly went frigid and she shut the tap off with a strangled yelp and shivered as the air became thick in her lungs. She closed her eyes and told herself that she would stay strong, she would not react.

A sound like nails on a chalkboard pervaded the air and Lydia reluctantly opened her eyes. The creature was there on the other side of the sliding glass door. It was drawing it's talons languidly along the glass, the rest of it's body lost to obscurity beyond the fog.

It spoke a strange dialect, it's whisper-deep voice vibrating through her core as she turned her attention away and attempted to keep her eyes on the porcelain at her feet and ignore the thing. When the door to the shower began to slide open, she felt herself snap.

"No." She snarled lowly as she slammed the door closed. "You're not welcome here! Leave!"

The only sound after her outburst was her own nervous panting, and after a moment she realized that the creature really had gone. It's absence did little to comfort her, and so with her hair still sopping wet she threw on the first clothes she touched, packed herself an overnight bag, and left her duplex. She did not stop driving until she was safe in Winter River two hours later.

Of course all four of the residents were too ecstatic to complain of the lack of notice she had given them for her impromptu weekend visit, though decidedly less so when she explained what, exactly, had driven her there. The Maitlands were of course willing to help, but at a loss as to how. The Handbook only covered ground rules and exorcisms for human entities, which Lydia ensured them this was most definitely _not_.

Adam and Barbara offered to ask Juno, but Lydia declined. They only had two help vouchers left for their remaining 114 years of haunting, and she somehow doubted the caseworker would assist when the Maitlands were not directly involved anyhow.

During the weekend discussions Adam let slip that Betelgeuse had boasted of having 'demons running all through him.'

The statement gave Lydia pause, but there was no sure way to tell if he had been speaking truthfully. The poltergeist had been desperate for someone to let him out and would have said just about anything to get the Maitlands to unleash him. On the other hand, if he had been telling the truth the statement suggested that the poltergeist could somehow absorb and harness demonic energy as his own. She did not see how that was possible, but Betelgeuse had seemed able to do any number of impossible things in the short time she had known him, so she could not write the possibility off.

Truly she was tempted. Every time she thought about it, it seemed more and more likely that he would know something of demons. Would know how to get _rid_ of the demon.

The only thing holding her back from summoning him was the nagging doubt in the back of her mind. Would he help her or haunt her? Though she hadn't been the direct cause of his downfall she had refused to marry him and broken their agreement.

Lydia decided to try the Winter River library while she was in town to dig up some answers, unreliable as they may be, to her predicament. She had searched for hours and turned up only one thin book, more of a story than actual fact, that had any reference to ghosts or demons.

Now, Lydia Deetz had nothing against organized religion, though she did not follow any herself, normally she saw no harm in it. As it was, when an entire library had been stripped of anything occult related because of the strong church presence, she found herself cursing said church and it's overzealous followers.

Without any research material there was no way for her to weigh Betelgeuse's power against that of the demon. Common sense dictated that anything demonic would automatically trump any human entity, and strong as the poltergeist had been it was undeniable that at one point he had in fact been human. She remained torn on the subject, but she did finally decide to bring Bertha into the fold and enlist her help.

She told Bertha it was because the library near her house was so big there was no way she could do all the research on her own. Really it was because she couldn't stand to be alone with that thing. She hoped having company would dissuade the creature and allow her to get some real rest.

Unfortunately both of her objectives failed spectacularly.

She had been sound asleep when pressure engulfed her neck and cut off her airway. She gasped and her eyes shot open to stare into the sockets of the nameless demon that had taken residence in her home. She struck out with her fists and jerked free of it's grasp only for white-hot agony to sear her shoulders as the beast's talons raked across her flesh. Her wrists were seized in a bruising grip and pinned above her head and a heavy weight settled along her body. The creature's coyote skull was grinning down at her as it ground her into the mattress with its body. It easily held her wrists with one large talon.

Her heart danced a staccato against her ribs. She would face ten Betelgeuses if it meant not having to deal with this thing.

"Lyyyyyyydiiiiaaaaaa." It purred gleefully as it raked its free limb down the side of her body, not quiet breaking skin with it's sharp touch. Between it's rotten breath and suffocating weight she could hardly draw any air into her lungs as she bucked and struggled beneath it. It growled, pleased with her terror and struggle, and the deep sound vibrated through her and the bed as it settled itself between her thighs. Her breath choked out of her when she felt a cold, slimy appendage pulsing against her bare leg. The entity's energy thrummed with greedy anticipation as it's grin widened into a leer and it's jaws opened to dribble reeking saliva on her face. A segmented serpentine tongue traced a frozen path from her hairline to her collarbone before it began to lap at the blood pooling at her throat from it's earlier attack.

It's free talon moved to forcefully spread her thighs and cleave a trail of blood in it's wake. The action sparked a surge of adrenaline as she realized exactly what this creature was about to do to her.

With a herculean effort she wrenched her entire body and imbalanced the creature just enough to free her leg and bring her knee up and into hard contact with the apex of it's legs and what she assumed had been it's slimy cock. A sound half-screech and half-yelp echoed through the room as the entity exploded into dark wisps of smoke and slowly dissipated.

Lydia lay panting and bleeding in her torn and sweat-soaked sheets. Her hair was plastered to her face and neck and though the room felt much lighter, and the malevolent energy seemed to have disappeared, she knew she had only won a battle. One of many to come.

It was time to call in a professional.

* * *

Lydia stared intently at her reflection and the shadows dancing along her face from the candle-light. She tried again to convince herself that this was the right path, and that it would work. She had sent Bertha (who had slept through the entire incident) home the day prior. She absolutely did not want anyone around if things turned sour. As the thought crossed her mind she substituted the alternative, her current reality. She recalled the helplessness of laying under the large creature as it's fetid breath panted into her lungs. Whatever hell Betelgeuse might plan for her could not be worse than her reality.

She opened her eyes and her gaze zeroed in on the onyx ring glinting eagerly in the shifting light. Her family thought that he was gone for good, but Lydia knew better.

If he had truly been gone the ring would not be stuck fast on her finger, it wouldn't be pulsing with anticipation as if it could read her intent, and it definitely wouldn't be exuding his feral energy as she bolstered her courage.

Her stomach tied itself in knots as she tried to breath through her nerves. She wasn't summoning him right away, he wouldn't be able to hurt her. It would be just like a phone call. It had worked with Barbara and Adam, it had to work with him too.

She closed her eyes and exhaled a nervous hiss. It was two nights after her altercation with the demon in her bed and the malevolent force had yet to return, but she knew it would not stay away for long. If she was going to do this it had to be now so the creature wouldn't learn his name. It could speak, therefore it could send him back.

Lydia concentrated harder than she had ever done with Barbara and Adam. She drew up every grimy detail from the mold across his face and on his scalp to the dank and musty smell that clung to his clothes and even the ebb and flow of his energy humming against her skin like a hive of bees. The ring on her finger pulsed with a life of it's own as her mental picture become clearer.

She hoped that by focusing every iota of her energy on these details she would somehow be able to bridge the distance between the living world and the afterlife. She inhaled one more quivering breath. Now or never.

"Betelgeuse."


	2. Chapter 2

Betelgeuse, the ghost with the most, and best conman this side of either world knew that today was going to be a _great_ fucking day. He knew it like he knew where to find a nice ripe sucker for the picking. He'd had a great lay the night before, hadn't even had to pay the bitch or drown her in booze. Some drunk newly dead unwidow in his favorite bar moaning about the husband she left behind, he hadn't even had to try to talk his way into her panties. Desperation really was his favorite flavor on a woman.

Too bad those types were the hardest to get out of his hair in the morning. Clung onto him like damn plastic wrap. Sure, he could milk them for a few more good nights, but he didn't want to spend every waking hour with the broads. The morning he woke up to the smell of them making him breakfast was usually when he knew they were too comfortable and they got the boot.

Betelgeuse dug around in his pocket for the bit of obituary he had ripped out of the paper. He had another job lined up and he had a good feeling about it, a _damn_ good feeling. If he played his cards right he would be out long enough to find his little runaway bride this time around.

It should be easy to find her, shit he should have found her years ago, but a perfect shitstorm of not-quite-dumb enough clients and fucking Juno had kept him just behind the little minx.

The little minx that was still wearing his goddamn ring. Shit if that didn't speak volumes.

She had slipped it on mere days after the fiasco, that alone told him that she still wanted it, even if she would not admit it to herself. He could feel her through it like static in the back of his mind, and damn was she buzzing loud today. Girl couldn't get him off her goddamned mind. Usually he could block the connection out unless she was concentrating on him particularly hard, like now.

 _What the hell is she doin'? Flickin' the goddamn bean?_

He felt the power of his name like a jolt down his spine, almost painful with the intensity the summoner had said it. He bit his cigarette between his teeth and cursed as he dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a small round mirror. Blinking back at him and absolutely reeking of desperation was the one and only Lydia Deetz.

Dame looked older, old enough to actually look like a woman. The lighting wasn't bright enough to take in more than the female form hunched over the candle-light in what looked like a bathrobe. The room was lost to blackness, but he didn't give two shits where she was anyway. Not when she had saved him the trouble of hunting her ass down.

Today was going to be one _hell_ of a damn good day.

"Betelgeuse." She had hissed out the forbidden name with intent and held her breath as, at first, only her reflection stared back at her. She was crouched and tense over the sink with her hands white-knuckled on either side. God she was a mess, she looked like a damn vulture hunched like she was. Smoke filled the mirror then and blotted out the sight of her, only to be replaced with a crazy-haired mold-covered visage. The poltergeist's angle was a little odd as he seemed to be glaring down at her through the angle of the mirror.

"The fuck you tryn'a do split my damn head open?" His gravelly voice bit out around the lit cigarette as he squinted down at her. A sneer broke across his face and she knew he recognized her. "Well lookee who finally came a crawlin' back. Knew you'd change your mind, babes." His expression warped into a leer as he took in her changed appearance, mostly around her chest. "Lemme out and we can finish gettin' hitched."

His reaction wasn't what she had expected, but then again when did he ever do as expected. She had been bracing for fire and brimstone, probably a quip or two about how she had left him to the sandworms, and while she wouldn't say he was being exactly polite, he hadn't tried to reach through the mirror and throttle her yet, either. She took it as a good sign.

"I've got a job for you." Lydia kicked herself for being too hasty. He was going to know something was up and refuse to help her. There was no way a smooth-talking conman like him couldn't not scent the absolute hopelessness hanging around her like a storm cloud.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided as he waggled a finger at her, "We already got a deal, babes, you're already _mine_." Lydia closed her eyes at the possessive statement and forced herself to remain calm. He thought she was his? She could work with this. She could do this.

"Well I have someone here who disagrees." She spat, hoping against hope that he'd rise to the challenge. She opened her eyes to see the specter openly scowling with his cigarette clamped tightly between his teeth.

"That breather ain't gonna be breathin' much longer if you don't tell him to take a fucking hike." There was a bite to his words that filled her with hope and she prayed he didn't notice how her hands trembled. She waited a beat to ensure her voice, at least, remained steady.

"You tell him yourself." She met his jade gaze through the mirror as he seemed to be absorbing her ragged appearance, then she jumped at his sudden bark of laughter.

"So, you got yourself a fleshie who don't know how to take no for an answer?" He blew smoke out his nose as he chortled in the back of his throat, "and what, you expect me to play white knight so you can shaft me again?"

Fuck, was he going to refuse? Her throat stung as her hands tightened around the edges of the sink. She could not keep fighting this thing, this _demon_ , on her own. She hardly cared that she would not survive it, but she had a horrible feeling that if the thing killed her it would somehow _keep_ her. The thing wasn't going to just let her spirit go on it's merry way.

" _Please_." She hated the despair that broke her voice, hated begging this conman for help, and absolutely hated the lump she had to swallow down before she could continue. "Please, just get rid of him and I'll do whatever you want." She knew promising this was beyond stupid of her but she was scared, she was tired, and she had convinced herself that this was the lesser of two evils. She just wanted it to end, and while the poltergeist was vile and disgusting, at least he had never hurt her in the past when he very well could have.

Several beats of silence followed her pleading outburst. Lydia could not for the life of her bring her eyes up to meet the Betelgeuse's gaze. Shame burned her face and eyes as she stared determinedly at the white porcelain before her.

"Sure." He acquiesced at last, "but don't think for a heartbeat you're getting out of it this time, girlie."

"Okay." Her voice was barely a whisper and her muscles began to tremble as she was flooded with relief. He was going help her. He was going to get rid of the damn beast. She choked back a hysterical sob and fought to keep her feet as she waited for her throat to loosen enough to speak clearly.

"Betelgeuse...Betelgeuse..." she raised her head to meet his eager gaze and he lifted an expectant eyebrow. "Betelgeuse." The moment the last syllable left her mouth he disappeared from the mirror and she felt the temperature of her bathroom drop ten degrees.

His aura was just as she remembered it, wild and raw and _dangerous_. It hummed against her skin and damn her she welcomed it. Her arms crossed under her breasts as if she could block the vulnerable feeling as easily as the cold. At least she'd thought ahead and wore her black sweater.

Betelgeuse did not immediately speak or move. He just stood there behind her and watched her tremble. Finally Lydia found the strength to slowly turn and face her fate. She fought not to flinch at the hard look that greeted her in his impossibly green eyes. Even his stare was feral, and glowed unnaturally in the candle light. He took a purposeful step towards her and smirked when she cringed slightly.

He reached to grip her chin firmly and lifted it to get a good view of her throat as he absently flicked his finger and popped the bathroom light on and bathed them both in the bright glow. She swallowed when she noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch as he took in the bruises she had hidden with the dim light. Then his eye caught one of the wounds on her shoulder and he dropped her chin.

"Shirt. OFF." He snapped. His leer returned and his voice turned into something absolutely wicked when she looked as if she would protest, "Don't worry babes, I don't collect until the job's done. 's bad business."

Lydia swallowed thickly and gripped the edges of her sweater with unsteady fingers before slowly lifting it over her skin, when she noticed that muscle in his jaw ticking in impatience she ripped it off like a bandaid. She crossed her arms over her nipples defensively. His gaze practically seared her flesh as he took in the goods. The energy that had hummed almost pleasantly against her became intense and raised gooseflesh along her arms, but she could not quite pinpoint the emotion behind the sudden change.

Betelgeuse had almost bit through his cigarette, the fuck was she doin' taking her shirt off like this was a damn strip tease. When the clothing was removed his eyes zeroed in on the assets, hell he was still a man, and he felt his trouser snake roll over in it's sleep. He was going to have fun with his grown up little wifey poo, much more fun than he would have had just being married in name all those years ago. Then his sights widened somewhat and he did bite through his smoke. With a disgusted sneer he spit the ruined thing into the ether and stalked towards his little fiance.

Said fiance backed clumsily away from him and the sudden severity in his gaze. She tripped over her own feet and fell the last couple of inches into the wall as the ghost leaned forward and traced the middle scab on her left shoulder. She winced at first, expecting the pain that usually accompanied touching the things, but his cool finger was soothing on the healing mark. His digit slid across unmarred flesh to the barely visible marks on her side then hooked the hem of her black sweat-pants and twitched. The pants fell with a 'swoosh' to pool on the tile at her feet.

His other hand came into play on her right thigh where the creature had gouged her flesh. His own three fingers settled over the scabs as if he were recreating the scene and Lydia's breath hitched at his touch.

"Now seems to me, babes," his breath hissed over her cheek and brought the smell of damp earth, grave soil maybe, "no breather did this to you." As he spoke the fingers traced their way back up the marks on her inner thigh and paused a hairs breadth from her panties. She bit back a whimper as his spider-light touch turned into a cold palm kneading her thigh.

"What this looks like ta me," he continued as his other hand danced it's way from her side to her left inner thigh, "is somethin' a bio-exorcist don't normally handle." Her heart climbed to her throat, but she allowed the gentle pressure of his hands to part her thighs and felt his cool form settle between them. "Might be needin' some payment up front, y'know? S'gonna be _taxin_ '," Here he thrust his hips into her damp panties and a jolt of heat shot through her core, " to take care of this little problem for ya."

"You can do it?" Her voice was rough both with hope and desire. She would promise him anything if he could get rid of it, and with the way he was making her feel now she would give him her body in a heartbeat.

"o'course. Ghost with the most." He lowered his lips to her shoulder and she heard him inhale through his nose and his gravelly voice dropped an octave "Yer just gonna pay a little extra, babes." He paused thoughtfully as he pressed his cold hard member into her core again. "Maybe pay a couple times before service is finished, ya get me?"

"A-alright." She breathed out as she brought her own arms up to slide uncertainly over Betelgeuse's shoulders and hook behind his head. She hoisted herself up to wrap her legs sensually around his hips and press her hot little body flush against him. The poltergeists fingers began dancing inside the hem of her underwear, getting ready to dispose of the thing. He was so fixated on his conquest that he almost didn't notice the stiffening of her muscles or the tang of fear that had suddenly spoiled the amorous mood.

What he did notice was the deep growl that rumbled through the room.

 **A/N**

 **Thanks for reading, and thank you The Art Of Suicide and GoldenAerie for the reviews it's thanks to you I decided to post this next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

Four months ago Lydia Deetz would never have believed that she would find herself willingly wrapped around the specter that had haunted her family all those years ago. He was filthy, in more than one sense, and more than a little unstable, yet here she was pressing herself on him like a five-dollar whore. She couldn't bring herself to feel ashamed, only relieved that after one and a half months of no sleep and her near-miss two nights prior the torment would end. She didn't even care that she'd be married and bedded by the disgusting poltergeist. At least she'd be safe, relatively speaking.

Lydia had even been enjoying the bio-excorcist's cold touch when the demon's presence had crept over her skin like a sludge. Her ardor was doused by the sight of the dark smoke and abrasive energy that lashed against her. She swallowed a whimper as she watched the creature begin to manifest and shuddered at the low growl that rumbled through her body.

Betelgeuse stiffened at the deep sound that was more of a vibration in his bones than anything actually heard. The poltergeist clenched his jaw and glared over his shoulder at the ominous cloud swirling like a vortex behind him. Here he was, hard enough to cut a fucking diamond, and this fuckwit had to choose now to show up?

Goddamn fucking cockblocking piece of _shit_.

Betelgeuse was vaguely aware of Lydia pushing none-too-gently against him and grudgingly allowed her some distance between them. Looked like he would have to 'collect' after the job was done after all. When the ghost turned with a smart-ass remark halfway out of his mouth he was struck with a sudden force and grunted as he was slammed into the wall opposite. His quip was crushed out of him along with the air in his lungs, and he was damn lucky he was already dead or he would have been, under the suffocating weight of the beast's attack.

The mist solidified into a long tail, whip-thin and powerful despite looking like mere skin stretched over vertebrae. His eyes followed the appendage pinning him and he cursed under his breath, or would have if he'd had any to spare, as he took in the huge skeletal creature. Betelgeuse had taken on demons in the past, mostly because they were encroaching on his clientele, but those things had been low to mid level. Small and easily taken care of.

The thing in front of him was fucking massive, a size that was no doubt exaggerated in the scant space of the bathroom but, _hell_ , it's wing bones arched over it's head to touch the ceiling and flared out to hit either wall, and they were not even fully unfurled. It's body easily spanned the width and breadth of the bathroom with flesh to spare. He had never seen anything like it. Not that was able to cross into the living world, anyhow.

The thing held Lydia's legs pinned with one clawed hand and it's beasts skull glared balefully at her with empty sockets for a few breaths. Suddenly an impossible grin stretched over it's features as it inhaled her scent and took great pleasure in whatever it found there. It lifted it's head to glance smugly between the window of it's wings and quills at the poltergeist and parted it's terrible jaws to release a steaming breath of laughter. The sound was both booming in it's depth and barely audible.

Without breaking it's gaze away from the poltergeist it allowed it's free claw to trail languidly over the exposed flesh of the struggling mortal girl and pause over a single breast. Betelgeuse, who had been cursing soundlessly, suddenly felt a growl of his own building in his throat. Piece of shit needed to get it's paws off of his damn wife or it would learn exactly why he was the ghost with the most. He let his 'juice' loose only to bare his teeth in a snarl as the demon, still laughing, used it's own energy to swat the attack away, like a cat would a troublesome bird.

Seeing that the ghost still had far too much fight in him the beast applied more pressure with it's tail and Betelgeuse felt his already cracking ribs poke into his long-useless organs, it sneered at him before turning it's attention back to his Lyds. Betelgeuse had been gearing up for another, more physical, assault when he saw the look on the broad's face and gritted his rotten teeth in fury. His mother fucking woman was staring up at the thing with an expression torn between terror and admiration, as if she wasn't quite sure if the demon before her was the most amazing or terrifying creature she had ever laid eyes upon. No wonder the fuck tard was fixated on her, with the bitch looking at him like it was some sort of dark god.

Oh _hell_ no. Betelgeuse would be the only one to receive that look from the girl.

The devil leaned over her with it's jaws opened and impossible tongue extended. Globs of disgusting saliva fell on and around Lydia with sickening plops as it's canine skull descended to do god knew what. Just as before, when the creature drew closer her senses cleared as she recognized she was in mortal peril. As soon as it was within range Lydia jolted upwards and slammed the dome of her head into it's bottom jaw with a painful 'thunk'. The beast squealed as it's sharp teeth clamped together and severed half of it's slimy appendage and the girl cringed at the hot spray of tar-black blood that coated her.

The demon reared back as it's severed tongue danced like a sidewinder across the linoleum and left a trail of liquid coal in it's wake.

The stunt freed Betelgeuse who moved immediately to seize the devil's flailing tail and yank it hard. It screeched with fury and doubled back along it's body to retaliate with it's claws. The thing shoved his head hard into the tiles and dug its talons into his sides, that growl still rumbled through the poltergeist's body. Spikes erupted from Betelgeuse's clothes and the beast was forced back with a frustrated snarl. The demon did not relent for long and the poltergeist grunted as he managed to grab the thing by its ram-like horns as it slammed him bodily into the wall once more.

Fucking thing was _strong_. He got a good close look at it as they strained against one another and had to bite the inside of his cheek as he realized _exactly_ what it was.

Black sludge dripped from the thing's skeletal jaws and the puddles steamed and bubbled unnaturally where they formed on the floor. As the pair struggled a red light began to shine in the back of the creature's empty sockets. The quills on it's shoulders stood on end and quivered with frustration as the barely-there membranes of it's wings twitched in the air disturbed by it's lashing tail.

"You don't do things by halves do ya babes?" He ground out with a strained chuckle, "couldn't just be a demon, oh no, demon's not good enough for you. Had to be a grade A genuine fucking _devil_." What the fuck did the thing want with his Lyds? Devils did a lot of fucked up shit, but they did not bother with living mortals, no matter how much said mortal admired their darkness. That said, he never had heard of a devil caring enough to come topside to bother with the humans.

The thing garbled something at him in it's own language, but he wasn't paying attention as he tightened his grip and twisted it's head to the side and sent enough of his juice through the devil's body to fry all of the inmates on death row. The red light within it's empty sockets flared as it hissed and flailed, the thing's lashing tail barely missed Lydia who still sat against the wall, dazed from the force of her headbutt.

"Sayonara." He gloated with a satisfied smirk and he threw the thing upward with as much effort as chucking a baseball. It dissipated into smoke as it hit the ceiling and wafted like an angry storm cloud for a few moments before fading out of sight. Fatigue hit the ghost, but he played it off as he stood up straight and stuck a hand in his pocket. Betelgeuse spat blood to the side and rubbed at his slightly imploded chest where the bones were noisily popping out of his organs and back into place.

Lydia roused slightly as the black faded from her vision and lifted a trembling hand to wipe at some of the demon's blood. She let out a choked sound in the back of her throat and tilted her head to stare up at the pristine ceiling. The strangled sound morphed into giddy giggles and then manic laughter. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eye to mingle with the blood oozing down her cheek.

"what's so fuckin' funny." Betelgeuse groused around the lit cigarette he had pulled from his pocket. Bitch had lost it. He was a little jealous that the devil had managed what he never had. Though truth be told Betelgeuse never seriously attempted to scar the kid before. As the mortal continued to choke on her laughter he contemplated what he'd witnessed and came to a grim conclusion as he rubbed his healed torso absently. Whatever the devil wanted with the human girl, it was not seeking to kill her.

"I'm fucked." She managed through her mirth, "I'm so absolutely screwed." Her hysteria only increased as she continued, "That thing is going to use me like a goddamn prison bitch."

"Forgettin' somthin' babes." He grumbled as he exhaled a puff of smoke and watched her nervous breakdown with less satisfaction than he would normally.

"That thing is going to come back, and you can't do _shit_ about it. Ghost with the most my ass." Lydia slowly regained her feet and nearly slipped in one of the cooling puddles of tar as she made her way over to the sink.

"Cut a guy some slack. Asshole caught me with my pants down!" Betelgeuse ran a frustrated hand through his hair before scratching some of the mold on his neck, "Got rid of it anyway." He grumbled to save face. When she continued to ignore him Betelgeuse grabbed her shoulder only for her to round on him and shove him away with surprising force. He blinked at the action; she should not be that strong, the thought was out of his head at her incensed response.

"Don't. Fucking. Touch me." She snarled with a wild gleam in her eye and ice in her voice, "I don't know why I bothered to call you, shit's just going to escalate. Again." Betelgeuse narrowed his eyes at the last word. That meant that she had been fighting this thing on her own for some time before she had called for his help. The thought just added fuel to his anger.

"Hey, I ain't gotta hang around here." He snapped.

"Go, then! I don't care!" Lydia's voice cracked and gave lie to the statement she turned to bend over the sink to hide the moisture gathering in her eyes. She would figure something else out. There was at least a few days before the demon would regain enough strength for another assault. Truly the infamous 'ghost with the most' had only accomplished what her well-placed kick had. And with one hundred times the mess.

She held her breath against the sobs that wanted to tear out of her. She had not gotten nearly enough sleep to deal with this, to deal with him. "I'm sorry." She sniffled, "please don't go." The truth was Betelgeuse was her only hope, distasteful as it was to admit.

If he couldn't get rid of the creature then it was going to win, and she trembled with terror to think of what it's victory would entail.

 **A/N**

 **The demon's gender is going to swing from 'he' to 'it' a lot, just a warning. Thanks to The Art Of Suicide and ArtemisRwail for the reviews on chapter 2.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is mostly dirty stuff just a warning.**

Betelgeuse polished off the bottle of cheap whiskey he had lifted from the corner store down the street and tossed it carelessly into the yard of the neighbors side of the duplex before belching loudly. He lounged back midair his hands behind his head and gazed up at the night sky with a disgruntled look. This job had not been going the way he'd hoped. If he had his way he'd already be done and seven inches deep in his brand new bride by now.

He wasn't surprised, though. It seemed that this particular mortal was a magnet for trouble. She managed to catch his attention, after all. It made the poltergeist wonder what, exactly, it was that drew spirits to the girl. Not just him, but the demon and even the Maitlands. Something about the girl just screamed that he had to have her, to posses her in whatever way possible. Hence his marriage plan. He wondered if the Maitlands felt the same when they saw her, and perhaps that was why they had adopted her, so to speak.

If she somehow influenced the entity he was dealing with now the same way ... well it would explain why it was being so damn persistent. Though the poltergeist had weakened it considerably in the bathroom, enough that it could no longer fully manifest, he'd already had to knock it on it's ass no less than three time since the li'l wifey had gone to sleep. He could taste the beast's frustration and anticipation each time it made a go for her. It's single-minded determination was pissing him the hell off. Thing needed to learn it's place and keep it's claws off his soon-to-be wife.

The devil was a high-class demon. Nearly as high up on the demonic scale as he was on the ghost scale. If the poltergeist was honest with himself this was a job he would never have taken on under any other circumstances. The pay-off though, he would finally _finally_ have his little runaway bride and his freedom. Betelgeuse would do this job, annoying as it would be, and not only would he have absorbed another demon's power by the end of it, he'd be free as a fucking bird.

Not only that but there wasn't shit Juno or the Maitlands could do about it this time around. Little Lydia was all grown up and able to make her own choices. She wouldn't get off with just a marriage of inconvenience this time, either. He was going to fuck her seven ways to Sunday. She was going be so grateful when he was done she'd be begging him to let her wrap those pink little lips around his cock. He just had to get rid of fuck-face first.

The poltergeist reached into his pants and adjusted himself in the suddenly confining space with a grunt. It had been a long while since he'd taken a living woman to bed, and none of those broads had smelled half as good as Lydia had when he had her sandwiched against the wall. His mouth absolutely watered as he remembered how close he had been to getting into her black little panties. He could hear and feel her erratic pulse dancing a staccato beat against his too-still body, and all he could think about was how that pulse would feel hot and wet and tight beating all around his-

He sucked a breath in as his cock twitched with anticipation.

"Eeeasy boy." He chuckled as he rubbed absently over the weeping tip. He popped a cigarette into his mouth with his free hand before phasing easily through the roof and into the room of the cause of his state. The vixen was sleeping haphazardly tangled in her sheets. His eyes took in the sight of her milky flesh greedily. She hadn't bothered getting dressed and he felt himself pulse in approval at all the bits that were not hidden by the sheets.

He drifted closer, nearly close enough to touch her and inhaled through his nose. His teeth clamped on the cigarette as a feral gleam entered his eyes and his free hand ghosted over her exposed leg. Lydia hummed in her sleep and her brows furrowed as her peace was disturbed, but not by his feather-light touch.

Betelgeuse groaned in frustration as he removed his hand from a certain aching part of his anatomy and squared up to rebuff the devil again. Asshole had a habit of interrupting him, he'd break the beast of that real damn fast. The look on his face was absolutely savage as he exploded into black smoke.

He had been distracted again, and so the creature was already in the bedroom. He wrapped it in his energy as soon as it passed through the wall and it writhed in his grasp. The pair of them grappled like two intangible serpents for a few moments before the devil retreated once again. Betelgeuse settled possessively around the bed as he caught his breath, so to speak.

* * *

Lydia lay peacefully sleeping for the first time since the doors started slamming throughout the night. She was sure the fact that she could sleep so peacefully with a poltergeist lurking around her home said something about her, but despite what she'd said in the bathroom she did have faith that Betelgeuse would hold up his end of the bargain. He hadn't let her down in the past, and despite her fucking him over then he had agreed to help her now.

She could feel him even through the haze of sleep. His feral energy was oddly comforting.

Her hair began to stand on end and gooseflesh rose on her arms as she slowly roused from the peaceful darkness of unconsciousness. She could feel the demon closing in, it's dark aura reaching out for her. At the same time the chaotic buzz of Betelgeuse's energy was even closer and seemed to shroud her entire being. She whimpered and rolled over in her bed as her skin seemed to jump to life with a pleasant hum of electricity.

Lacking the energy to rouse completely Lydia's eyes were half lidded as she felt the ebb and flow of the clashing auras. She could see Betelgeuse, though he was not in a human or corporeal form, he was a dark mist that enveloped her entire bed. She sensed Betelgeuse's power crescendo and the demonic energy was repulsed once more.

Drunk on sleep the young woman reached out and ran her fingers tenderly through the mist. It was cold and the tingles that ran through her hand and up her arm were not unpleasant in the least. Sleepily her other hand came up to join the explorations and she inadvertently pulled him so that he was enveloping her body. She gasped in surprise as his energy hummed through her being, and a barely audible groan rumbled from the darkness enshrouding her. The energy became more concentrated on her hips and she fancied she could feel his cold calloused touch slipping up to engulf her breasts.

She arched into his touch beautifully and she felt his energy thrum with approval as his touch concentrated on pinching her pink pearled nipples. She yelped at the jolt of electric pleasure that went straight to her core.

Lydia's legs rubbed together as she writhed within him, desperately trying to alleviate the ache that had formed quite suddenly in the apex of her thighs. Her hands roamed down her stomach only to be stopped fast by Betelgeuse. His aura took on a predatory feel as her legs were forced apart and an amazing sensation began to stretch and explore her pussy.

"Be-" Her voice was muffled by an immense pressure before she could get past the first syllable. He was not angry, she could feel his satisfaction as he moved within her. Was he-were they having sex? She could not see him, but she could _feel_ him. He pulled and rolled her nipples and worked at her clit and filled her pussy entirely. His energy sang along her entire body and filled her with electricity as the sensations began to overwhelm her. Her scream of pleasure was muffled by the mist as she lifted her hips and arched her back as an intense orgasm ripped through her body. She panted as her entire body went limp.

The poltergeist oozed smug satisfaction as he released her from whatever power he had held her ensnared within. She hummed tiredly as her eyes became heavy once more. The comforting hum of his power dragged her spent body back under the ocean of sleep.

Betelgeuse bathed in the afterglow of his work as he watched her deep breathing. He pulled himself together and lit up another cigarette as he grinned down at the young woman below him. He had been surprised when she was able to touch him without his body, but ravaging her in that form was, if not the same as putting it to her, satisfying in a whole other way. He was tempted to cocoon himself possessively around her once again, but he decided against it. It was better when she offered herself up, rather than he take what he wanted.

For now, though, he needed to figure out a way to finish this job. So long as he could see it coming rebuffing the thing was no problem, but Lydia proved a delicious distraction. Had the thing tried to enter the home while he was utterly wrapped around the woman it would have been a repeat of the bathroom incident. Really, he knew better, but hot damn if it wouldn't have been worth it.

* * *

 **My thanks and apologies to all those who have been following this story. I've written and re-written this chapter several times before deciding that it would be a pseudo smut chapter. Hopefully the next update won't take so long to get out!**


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